


Hexes Are Not Romantic

by Electroid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, How Do I Tag, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Marcus Flint - Freeform, Marcus thats not how you flirt, Misunderstandings, Percy Weasley - Freeform, Percy is a Dork, Pigtail Pulling, Secret Admirer, Slash, romantic meetings under the quiddich pitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6166171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electroid/pseuds/Electroid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even if it was nothing more than a prank... he had to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hexes Are Not Romantic

Percy scowled down at his half finished potions essay. It remained a stubborn three inches less than Professer Snape's required length, and despite the numerous books laying open around him the prefect was unable to scourge out the sentences needed to complete the assignment. And all he really needed to do was insert some pointless filler between a few of the facts in his work and the requirement would be met, he knew a spell that would give him the space needed to write it in. He just... He just couldn't get his mind to focus. And the worst part was that it was hardly his fault that he couldn't concentrate. It really wasn't.

  
  


He just didn't know who's fault it actually was.

  
  


Because some absolute wanker had decided to send Percy a letter at dinner, a letter asking him to meet them under the Quiddich stands at midnight. The feathered end of Percy's quill was tapping insistently against his desk as the redhead unwillingly glanced at the letter again.

  
  


It was probably the twins. He knew that. Or at the very least a prank of some kind, regardless of whether or not his brothers were involved.

  
  


It _had_ to be a joke. Carefully he picked up the parchment, rereading the messy, slightly slanted writing.

  
  


_ Hey beautiful, I'm sick of just watching you from afar. _

_ Come meet me at the pitch tonight, midnight. _

_ I'll be waiting. _

  
  


He- once again- threw the note down angrily, only to guiltily pick it back up again seconds later. After all... There  _ was _ a slight possibility that it maybe wasn't exactly a prank, entirely. Maybe, just maybe- and he hated himself for hoping- it was real. Somebody might like him,  _ as much as anybody could like a pompous and arrogant prat _ , he thought bitterly. It was stupid, and childish to waste time staring at a letter that was more than likely an excuse for someone to beat him up. He knew that!  
  


 

...But what if it wasn't?  
  


 

What if... Somebody actually  _ wanted _ to meet him... What if somebody actually had been watching him. Still slightly creepy... But in a good way.

 

He had to know!

 

He would easily drive himself mad if he didn't go, because then he would never actually know if it was real or not. He would never know if the twins hated him enough to- to do something this awful or if somebody else did... or if somebody thought he was beautiful.

A decidedly girlish term but it still made Percy feel an unknown fluttering in his stomach.

_ I'm going. _ He decided, still glancing periodically at the folder paper.  _ I'm going just in case. _

And, with that decided, the redhead happily finished his essay.

 

At exactly 11:45 Percy got out of bed. Grabbing a warm sweater and pulling his shoes quietly out from under the bed frame. He didn't really have to be all that quiet, Oliver, his only roommate slept like the dead but Percy preferred to exercise caution. Especially since he was going to be breaking an immense amount of school rules, all in one night too.

  
  


Unlike many of the younger years, and those above him Percy knew that the Fat Lady kept track of those who snuck out at night; it was common sense really. She was the one who was to let them back in later on. Not to mention the fact that he had asked her once. She was rather nice to talk to, and despite being in an area of high traffic, she was rather lonely too. Percy tried to talk to her as often as he could but he was positive that she wouldn't make allowances for him. And so, he unshrunk the school broom that he had nicked while on his rounds earlier that night.

  
  


It's not like the Headmaster had any portraits keeping an eye on the dormitory windows.

 

Opening the window and popping the screen was easy enough, he did it at home all the time. Not that his family would ever know that particular fact. And it was only marginally petrifying to step out onto the window ledge, broom clutched in a bone-white grip, and look down a few hundred unforgiving feet to the hard ground below.

  
  


After taking a few shaky breaths Percy mounted his 'borrowed' broomstick. Then, after closing his eyes and slowly counting to three, he pushed off. Shooting upwards above the castle, hating the height but using it to strategically avoid all windows and any teachers who might be peering out of them.

  
  


The night was pleasant, but cool and the stars were positively lovely. There were no clouds marring the sky.

  
  


Percy laughed breathlessly as the wind whipped around him and the ancient stone of Hogwarts passed below, after a few endless minutes that were equal parts wonderful and dreadful he began to angle the broom slowly downwards towards the darkened Quiddich stands. Mindful of his inexperience at flying; he landed with a unsteady thump and a muffled curse.

  
  


Glaring indignantly at the broom Percy got up, brushing himself off before snatching the handle and tucking it behind a support beam. He had just straightened when he was grabbed, spun around suddenly and pressed against the beam. His gasp was silenced as a pair of lips latched firmly onto his own.

  
  


The kiss was soft but it was very obvious that whoever was kissing Percy was male. He couldn't help but kiss back, shuddering as the other boy moaned quietly at his response. Then a body was pressing against his own, tall and bulky and _ ohhh. _ Percy's hands had a mind of their own, almost frantically running over the strong chest and sides of the other boy before snaking around his neck.

  
  


There were hands at his hips, pulling him in closer as a tongue traced the seam of Percy's lips, requesting entrance. He obliged. Gasping and shivering as his mouth was thoroughly and expertly plundered.

  
  


It wasn't until they pulled back for air that Percy remembered that he had absolutely no idea who he was snogging.

  
  


The other-and much larger- boy leaned in for another kiss and Percy shrunk back, both hands on the boy's chest and pushing. "Wait!" he gasped, pausing before pushing once more. "Just... Just  _ wait." _

  
  


He did, and the redhead took a few moments to regain his bearings, squinting up at the other boy; trying to see him through the darkness. Percy took a deep breath. "Y- you, um, you didn't put a name... on the note."

  
  


A pause, then. "I didn't."

  
  


Percy recognized that voice. How could he not? It belonged to the now seventh year Slytherin who had picked on him for years, since his second year at Hogwarts in fact. Marcus Flint.

  
  


"I knew it." he whispered quietly, hating himself as his eyes welled up with tears.

  
  


Flint jolted back, "Y-you did!?"

  
  


Percy shoved himself away from the beam, skirting around the massive Slytherin. "I knew it was a bloody joke!" He yelled, cursing himself and his foolishness the redhead starting walking briskly away. Heavy footsteps trailed behind him, speeding up as he did until one of Flint's large hands grasped his wrist, yanking him back.

  
  


"Percy! Just let me explain!" Now that they were out from under the stands the prefect could see the other boy's face, he looked almost desperate and Percy hated him. For still trying to fool him, for trying to use him... like- like that! And he couldn't help himself, Percy let out a furious half scream before lunging at Flint. Managing to punch him  _ hard _ before the Slytherin grabbed his wrists. "Calm down!"

  
  


"Fuck you!"

  
  


"Percy... Please just-"

  
  


"Shut  _ UP _ you unbearable wanker!"

  
  


"Just calm down! Let me talk to you."

  
  


Percy only got angrier. Thrashing against him, trying to pull his hands free and cursing all the while. After a few minutes the larger boy apparently got sick of it because in a matter of seconds Percy found himself pinned to the ground, a large weight keeping him down as Flint straddled his legs. His wrists were held above his head and Flint's face hovered above his own.

  
  


"Get off of me!" he hissed, still trying to jerk his arms free.

  
  


"No."

  
  


Percy let out a wordless wail, so angry that Flint was framed in red. Blood was pounding in his ears and he couldn't remember ever wanting to hurt someone as bad as he wanted to hurt Marcus Flint right at that moment. But no matter how hard he thrashed and pulled and snarled, he could never move more than a few inches in the stronger boy's grip. It felt like forever before Percy was finally too tried to do more than weakly twist in the hold. Flint remained unmoved, staring down at Percy with worried brown eyes as he panted beneath him.

  
  


Then, suddenly they were kissing again.

  
  


Mouths crashing together violently, fighting for dominance with tongues and teeth. Somehow Percy's legs ended up wrapped tightly around Flint's hips as they grinded against each other, gasping into the kiss as they pressed closer. Flint had one hand firmly on Percy's arse using the grip as leverage for more friction; Percy moaned and the Slytherin invaded his mouth. Taking control and leaving Percy almost boneless as they pressed together.

  
  


He reached up, fumbling with the older boy's shirt while Flint sucked on his neck, stopping occasionally to bite down, making Percy howl and arch up into him. Loving every second of it. He tore the shirt open, buttons scattering as he started pushing the fabric off the muscled body above him.

  
  


Both Percy's shirt and sweater were gone and he didn't know how or when they had been pulled off him, all he could focus on was the layers of fabric separating their cocks. Flint bit down again and he gasped, knowing that it would bruise by morning.

  
  


Their lips crashed together again, and Percy squirmed wantonly as his bottom lip was sucked then bitten right before Flint roughly took his mouth. He was panting, gasping for air and pressing impossibly close to Flint's heaving chest, he was close. His hips jerked up unconsciously. So close.

  
  


And judging by the gasping moans for the boy above him, he was too.

  
  


Flint whimpered when Percy forced his hand down his pants, grabbing his cock and stroking it roughly. Their mouths still fought, still intertwined in a harsh kiss and Percy cried out as a hand wrapped around his dick, jerking him off as they panted together. 

  
  


Then Percy was coming, arching into the hand wrapped around him with a muffled scream. He dimly recognized feeling Flint come into his hand as he fingered his slit. They rode out their orgasms, still grinding together before falling into a sweaty pile as they finished.

Flint started nibbling lazily at Percy's jaw.

  
  


After a moment he pulled away, tugging Percy up into a soft, gentle kiss. He went willingly, his mouth moving carefully against the larger boy's.

  
  


"I love you." Flint whispered against his lips.

  
  


Percy froze. "W-what?"

  
  


"I love you."

  
  


"Y-you..." He said dumbly, "...But you hexed me... just last week."

  
  


"Yeah." He pressed his face into Percy's neck, inhaling deeply.

  
  


"I don't... You... What?"

  
  


"You were ignoring me."

  
  


"I was... Marcus, you can't just hex people." He suddenly realized that his hand was repeatedly running up and down the Slytherin's back.

  
  


"You wouldn't even look at me."

  
  


"Yes, I was ignoring you. Because you've been an absolute prat since the day I met you."

 

 

Flin- Marcus mumbled something illegible into Percy's shoulder.

  
  


"Pardon?"

  
  


"I, um, didn't know how else to get you to notice me."

  
  


"Oh." Percy blinked. "You couldn't just come say hi? I probably wouldn't have punched you had you done that instead of knocking my books down a set of moving stairs."

  
  


"Mmm," The Slytherin muttered agreeably, latching onto Percy's clavicle and sucking yet another mark onto his skin. He tightened his arms around the redhead, holding him almost possessively.

  
  


"Stop it!" he laughed, pushing at his shoulders. "I've more than enough marks from you already."

  
  


"Yeah." Marcus stated proudly. Moving slightly away so he could admire the dark bruises and bite marks on Percy's shoulders, neck and jawline.

  
  


They were quiet for a bit, and Percy really didn't want to get up. Not in the slightest, but he was sweaty, the grass was wet and... well, his pants were sticky. Not to mention the fact that Marcus was bloody heavy, and also currently lying on top of him. Blushing he pulled out his wand and murmured a quick cleaning spell, looking at the other boy questioningly before doing the same for him. He wasn't angry anymore. Which, if Percy thought about it, was strange considering his reaction to being kissed by Marcus earlier.

 

 

Once the pair finally got up, he turned to Marcus; now the trade-marked Weasley red. "So, um... I guess we should- do you... I mean, uh..."

  
  


"Will you go out with me?" Marcus blurted out suddenly. "Please." His eyes wide and somewhat panicked. Then he stepped closer, one hand reaching out to pull Percy closer. The redhead watched him closely, observing the nervousness slowly melt into confidence. He came easily into the Slytherin's space. Then Marcus spoke again. "That's why I wanted to meet you. To talk, then I wanted to ask you-"

  
  


Percy interrupted, "Yes."

  
  


"What?"

  
  


Smiling carefully, he answered. "Yes, I will go out with you."

  
  


Marcus smiled.

  
  
  


Later that morning- Percy hadn't gotten to bed until at least four- he was on cloud nine. He had a boyfriend. A big, strong, handsome prat of a boyfriend who had been trying for his attention in the most ridiculous way possible. His boyfriend was also somewhat of an idiot, in that hexes were apparently part of his courting method; but Percy still rather liked the wanker. And so, cloud nine.

  
  


Unfortunately he had also slept in…

  
  


So revealing in his new predicament would have to wait until a later date.

 

After frantically racing around the dormitory, finding clothes and shoving books into his already overpacked bag Percy hurried off to breakfast. Still smiling faintly as he rushed through the corridors and then, miraculously on time for the later end of the meal, through the large double doors of the Great hall.

  
  


Carelessly he slid into the empty spot beside Oliver, not noticing the increasingly shocked looks and whispers he was causing. His roommate was smirking down at his food as Percy reached out to grab some eggs.

  
  


"This has to be the first time you've ever slept in, mate."

  
  


Percy laughed, "I actually didn't get much sleep."

  
  


Oliver looked up in confusion, and promptly choked on his toast. At that very moment George's incredulous voice rose above the chatter of all four houses.

  
  


_ "Percy! Are those LOVEBITES?!" _

  
  


Percy paled, his hand flying up to his neck while his eyes scanned the Slytherin table; meeting the unbearably smug gaze of one Marcus Flint.

  
  


Fin.


End file.
